Ian Callum: What I'd Do Differently

After starting his career in anonymity at Ford, car-designer Callum, 55, has become the man who breathed new life into both Aston and Jaguar.

MIKE DUFF

Apr 12, 2010

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C/D: Is it true that when you were a kid growing up in Scotland, you wrote to J­aguar saying you wanted to become the company’s chief designer?

IC: I used to write to dealers in Glasgow and Edinburgh, or even London, pretending I was a potential customer to get brochures. It worked until one day a Rolls-Royce turned up outside my dad’s house—it was for a test drive of the new Silver Shadow. And I also wrote to people to get information on how to become a car designer, but Jaguar was the only company I wrote to. I got a reply, too, telling me to study technical drawing.

C/D: But it was American cars that had the greatest influence on you growing up.

IC: Yeah. I recognized the design in them, almost the exaggeration of design. They were definitely more expressive, and in my mind, America was extremely glamorous. The imagery we got was all Hollywood, never Pittsburgh or Detroit. I knew about Bill Mitchell and Harley Earl and what they did. The ’65 Buick Riviera was my favorite. And it didn’t come from seeing the cars—it came from not being able to see them.

C/D: So how did your dreams of car design live up to starting your career as a junior designer for Ford?

IC: To be honest, for my first few months there, I felt really low. I soon realized that I wasn’t going to be jumping in and designing the next Capri or Escort. If I was lucky, I was going to be doing the steering wheel or the door handles. That’s how it worked back then, very hierarchical, very compartmentalized. You didn’t get a chance to design cars until you’d earned your place.

C/D: So after 10 years, you took a risk and went to work for TWR [Tom Walkinshaw Racing], where you got to design the Aston Martin DB7.

IC: I was very lucky. TWR was basically doing consultancy work. The first thing I did when I started there was design a tractor—that was a bit different. But then we were given the chance to do a new, small Aston Martin. At the time, Aston was in a really precarious position, selling tiny numbers of very expensive cars. It had been bought by Ford, but everyone sensed that the senior guys at Ford didn’t really know what to do with it. There was a huge opportunity to turn it around by getting a new product out there, something that was more affordable—but most importantly, beautiful.

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C/D: You took the job of design director of Jaguar in 1999, but you carried on designing Aston Martins “on the side.” For the record, how much of the V-8 Vantage and the DB9 were done under your watch?

IC: The DB9, I’d say pretty much 100 percent, including the interior. Maybe not color and trim and wood finishes, but certainly the surfaces of the car. And the V-8, I would say a good 80 percent. In fact, we started the V-8 first and then shelved it while we did the DB9—that’s why they’re quite similar.

C/D: And yet your name isn’t officially attached to either of them...

IC: Those who matter know. That’s fine with me. They’re in my portfolio. You only have to look at the DB9 to see who designed it—it’s a Vanquish with a dinner jacket on.

C/D: How do you respond to people who say the DB9 and Jag XK are very similar?

IC: They have values about them that are similar, I’d say. The way they sit, their overall proportions—but these are my values, what I think makes a car correct. I’m not going to change those values because I’m working for a different brand. But there are other values that belong to the brand: Jaguars are much more voluptuous; Aston Martins are more muscular—strength in a tailored suit.

C/D: And with theXF and the new XJ, you’re taking Jaguar far away from its previous conservative design direction. Is the brand ready to become this different?

IC: For me, there’s nothing radically new about doing this to Jaguar. I think it’s absolutely the right place to be. My point of judgment is always: “What would Sir William Lyons think of this?” And I honestly think he’d approve, hugely. Look back—Jaguar was a radical car company in many ways, one that became successful producing modern, beautiful cars. That’s what we’re doing.

C/D: So, what would you do differently?

IC: I don’t think there’s anything I’d do differently. I’m conscious of the enormous amount of luck I’ve had throughout my career; everything has worked out way beyond anything I could have wished for.

C/D: You must have at least one regret.

IC: Okay, there’s one. I’ve done a lot of sketches. Some were just doodles, but some of them were the point at which an idea transferred from my head into reality—the point where you can see the car that finally emerged. But I gave almost all of them away, which is a real shame. Some of them must be worth a few quid by now—they’d have helped out with the pension.